Release Date – 20th March 2026, Cert – TBC, Run-time – 2 hours 11 minutes, Director – Paolo Sorrentino

President Mariano De Santis’ (Toni Servillo) term is coming to an end. As he looks back on his career he worries about life, legacy, party and people.

“Your term is about to come to an end, Dad. When will you ever decide anything?” Mariano De Santis’ (Toni Servillo) term as Italian President has been one of safety. Boring and unswayed from the party line, which has made most of his decisions, for years his unknown-to-him nickname has been Reinforced Concrete. Never leaning towards anything that might be deemed controversial or divisive. Documents which would legalise euthanasia in the country sit on his desk throughout the film, his mind split with the personal and political ‘what if’s’ whenever he looks at them.

Legacy is at the core of La Grazia. Like age has done for De Santis the feeling on looking back on life and a career in old age creeps up on the film. As the final days of the latter approach for the central character Servillo’s performance becomes more reflective and somewhat downcast, especially in the wake of the conflictions at play. Will his legacy be defined by his party or what he’s done for the people of the country that voted him in, and is doing something for the people just to boost his image really doing something for the people?

As such themes are explored the satirical humour throughout starts to diminish. In the fist half the tone of La Grazia is somewhat unexpectedly funny. There are a number of chuckles to be found as the grandness of the presidency is contrasted with the tightly-kept and bland form of De Santis, although the character himself isn’t bland to the viewer. You can see the thoughts and conflictions flip-flopping through his mind at each moment, even when confronted with the prospect that his late wife cheated on him many years before, with him trying to find out with whom of his friends, and staff.

La Grazia translates to ‘grace’ and in many ways the film is about trying to achieve that. As an image seen by others, as a way of feeling or coming to terms with the past and indeed feeling about oneself and decisions. Writer-director Paolo Sorrentino deals with a number of these ideas gracefully, with the help of Servillo’s strong central performance which much of the film revolves around.

The weight, like the decisions of De Santis, is on his shoulders and he carries it successfully. A tale of ageing and final days, confronting and doing the right thing as part of them, and simply making your own decisions without the burden of thought for critical responses or the party. A number of these are subtly dealt with and work hand-in-hand with the ideas at the heart of the film which itself is an amusing and well-balanced piece of work.

Toni Servillo brilliantly carries La Grazia’s themes of ageing, legacy and final days through the chuckles of the first half and the more solemn second. Thematically mirroring the changing mindset of the central figure.

Release Date – 20th February 2026, Cert – TBC, Run-time – 1 hour 53 minutes, Director – Mary Bronstein

Linda (Rose Byrne) is struggling to stay afloat, looking after her sick daughter (Delaney Quinn) as their home falls apart, while her therapist (Conan O’Brien) doesn’t seem to take her seriously.

Linda is dead behind the eyes. It’s a look that Rose Byrne has mastered in If I Had Legs I’d Kick You. Hers is a performance that, alongside the film as a whole, understands the feeling of being depressed and tired and empty. The world is piling down on her and she’s struggling to stay afloat. The posters in her office, where she works as a therapist, reading “it always seems impossible until it’s done.” seem desperately unencouraging.

For Linda, ‘it’ relates to her whole life falling apart – much like her home. The ceiling of one of the rooms in her apartment has fallen in causing the place to flood, moving out until it’s fixed, a time that appears to be constantly pushed, into a nearby motel. With her husband (Christian Slater) away, she’s left to look after her young, ill daughter (Delaney Quinn – never properly seen, only heard). As she tells her own therapist (a withering, dramatic turn from Conan O’Brien) about how everything seems to be closing in on her, barely staying afloat, she’s met with an unsympathetic response.

The pressure at hand, and Linda’s increasing lack of energy to deal with things as she’s pushed and pulled in multiple directions, leads to a number of difficult-to-watch scenes. Whether missing meetings at medical centres or one instance where she’s talking to a client of hers over the phone unease creeps in, further fuelling the breakdown that appears to be central to the film. There’s an underlying fear and tension to almost everything that happens once the elements are set up, even hidden behind the dark humour which raises an occasional scattered chuckle. This mixture of tones, all accompanying the psychological drama at hand, caught by Byrne’s increasingly exasperated performance – unquestionably deserving of the awards attention that’s been quietly growing over the last few weeks.

“I’ll be better, I promise I can be better” she tells herself as much as anyone else. She wants to try and wants to be better, but at the same time needs some form of break and escape. Just a moment to lie down. However, these can create further problems down the line. Writer-director Mary Bronstein’s screenplay could enter into territory similar to The Lost Daughter, or the anxiety of Uncut Gems, but successfully avoids it by focusing on the constantly tired yet trying attitude that Linda has, and not involving historical regret.

A state that’s captured in the overall tone and style of the film and grows the tension at hand. The worry for other characters who trust in Linda, partly stemmed through her own want to help. And yet, the world and everything that could possibly cause further anxiety and worry continues to beat down. Everything leads to more trouble and mental exhaustion with little help or listening ears. This is a film about tiredness and emptiness that’s got plenty of weighty spark in its ideas.

Perfectly capturing a tired depression, Rose Byrne commands If I Had Legs I’d Kick You as her character struggles to stay afloat in a film that manages to do so amongst a lot of tense worry from multiple angles.

Release Date – TBC, Cert – TBC, Run-time – 1 hour 25 minutes, Director – John Skoog

The peak of the Cold War, farmer Karl-Göran (Denis Lavant) sets to work building a protective shelter for him and the nearby village. However, the more it grows the more isolated and ridiculed he becomes.

The Cold War creates two worlds in Redoubt. That of fear faced by farmer Karl-Göran (Denis Lavant) as he sets about creating a shelter for himself, and that of everyday life for the nearby village, who with every day that passes without a nuclear strike he expands his build to include as many of as possible. The local children run through the muddy fields that he carries scraps of wood, metal and tires through telling him how they’re gathering materials for their own fort. It’s these children who take the most interest in Karl and his efforts, and he seems to spend more time with them than anyone else in the unwelcoming landscape – captured in dark greys of black and white – before isolating himself more and more as his shelter expands.

Lavant’s performance is a very quiet one. The more isolated his character becomes the greater the weight he appears to carry is, his worry of nuclear war growing with each day – leading to further isolation as the young men in the village ridicule him, especially when the shelter becomes his home. It’s as these comments start to come into play, almost around halfway through the film, that Redoubt starts to gain more substance and we find more of an emotional connection with Karl, alongside a growing fascination with the shifting forces that are propelling him.

Co-writer (alongside Kettil Kasan) and director John Skoog maintains a restrained sound and image to the film. Karl’s shelter gradually becomes less a fort as the children view it and more an impenetrable fortress, as if designed to keep the rest of the world out as he still builds it for that world. Housing himself in cold and darkness so no radiation can get him when the, to him, inevitable arrives. It takes some time for things to get going as the slow pacing, and minimal dialogue, establish the relationships at play. And while it’s initially engaging to simply see the construction happening, albeit it not with the overhanging feeling of threat or dread which doesn’t appear to be a major factor of the film as a whole, it takes some time to properly form an emotional connection, despite Lavant’s stone-faced performance.

Without an overhanging dread, it takes some time to form an emotional connection with Denis Lavant’s quietly-performed, weight-carrying character. But, as we see more of those around him, and the well-captured build and landscape grow, there’s a connecting intrigue in just how things will develop.

Release Date – 20th February 2026, Cert – TBC, Run-time – 2 hours 15 minutes, Director – Mona Fastvold

The 18th Century, after a life of tragedy Ann Lee (Amanda Seyfried) spreads her religious Shaker movement from England to America, becoming a figurehead for those who follow, and threaten, her.

The Testament Of Ann Lee is a frustratingly restless film. The Shaker movement the titular character (played by Amanda Seyfried) spreads from the streets of Manchester to its own, God-directed land in pre-revolution America sees people overcome by God’s power and start shaking, convulsing in song and dance. Yet, even their jerkily waving movements feel more calm than the film they feature in. One which bursts into snippets of songs so brief that it feels as if this apparent musical has no proper musical numbers; making Joker 2 look like a wall-to-wall song-and-dance bash.

The longest track repeats the phrase “I love mother” over and over again, after having followed a conversation about false gods. The more it went on I found myself genuinely wondering if it was going to turn out that Ann Lee was a major cult leader. The more the film revolves around her and she becomes a noted leader – multiple synopses for the film have stated that her followers view her as a female incarnation of Christ – the more cultlike it all becomes, and I don’t entirely think that’s the intention. The voiceover throughout (courtesy of Thomasin McKenzie, who appears later in the film) is telling a grand, historical story, even if it occasionally sounds like it’s coming from Philomena Cunk; “they went in search of a wide avenue called Broad Street.”

It’s one of a couple of unintentionally humorous moments in the film, the other being an extended sequence which sees characters trying to find where to build the Shaker town – “paradise through toil and chastity” – guided by an index finger seemingly moved by God. But, aside from Mr Hucknall’s magic finger (gifted unto him by God) there’s little levity throughout this film – co-written by Brutalist writers Mona Fastvold (who also directs) and Brady Corbet, who both have slight musical experience having worked on 2018’s Vox Lux. The Testament Of Ann Lee simply falls flat and feels like a very slow trudge through each event. No matter how much is going on it all simply feels boring.

After being told about a series of births and subsequent bereavements we see a near-montage of this panning out, making it clear that this is going to be a downbeat film. Instances relating to Ann’s marriage to Christopher Abbott’s Abraham and abuse faced come into play, although feel somewhat brief when they are amongst everything else that’s thrown towards the titular character – who Seyfried does her best to keep determined and, more importantly, afloat for the sake of the film. With just how much is going on and what’s also thrown at the audience it’s difficult to work out who this film is for. It feels confused and directionless and rather than targeting a lot of people at once it doesn’t quite feel as if its targeting anyone.

The whole thing is all rather bland and dour. With the titular character seemingly coming out of it through how people seem to have viewed her rather than as herself, being caught up in the perfect image created by the Shaker following that we see grow over the long run-time. The Testament Of Ann Lee eventually feels less like Ann Lee’s personal testament and more it told through the eyes of the devout Shakers, meaning that a lot eventually gets caught in what’s attempted to be shown and in the end perhaps has the opposite depiction and impact. Either way, it all feels as cut up and conflicting as the bursts of song and the fact that this seems to want to be a musical.

Much like the bursts of song throughout, The Testament Of Ann Lee feels jumbled and detached. A long, boring slog where the Shakers feel increasingly cult-like it’s very difficult to know who this is really for.

Release Date – 13th February 2026, Cert – TBC, Run-time – 1 hour 45 minutes, Director – Hasan Hadi

90s Iraq, nine-year-old Lamia (Baneen Ahmad Nayyef) is tasked with making a cake for her school to celebrate Saddam Hussein’s birthday, or her family will face punishment. However, ingredients aren’t cheap, or easy to come by.

Saddam Hussein’s face looms over The President’s Cake. If not as a picture on a wall in every room of every building it’s as a mural spread across a wall. A reminder of the threat faced by nine-year-old Lamia (Baneen Ahmad Nayyef) if she fails to make a cake for her school to celebrate Saddam Hussein’s birthday. After her name has been pulled out of a hat the class are reminded of what happened to the kid who failed to bring one of the required gifts the year before – in monotone unison they say that he and his family were dragged to death.

The items to make the cake may be few but they’re also scarce, and expensive. Lamia lives with her grandmother (Waheed Thabet Khreibat) who already struggles to afford to feed the pair of them – leading to a particularly crushing set of circumstances which separates the pair of them part way through – as Lamia and schoolfriend Saeed (Sajad Mohamad Qasem) filter through the nearby markets to her home; a one-room hut floating in the middle of the river, fear grows and grows.

As the characters go from place to place it would be so easy for the events to become farcical. The base narrative – finding the ingredients to make a cake for Saddam Hussein’s birthday – sound as if they could come from a comedy, until the reminder that death is the consequence of failing to do so. But, while there are some occasionally funny moments which maintain the consistent movement of the drama The President’s Cake is a largely simple story that’s told with a good deal of emotion, largely because of what’s contextually playing out in the background. Particularly conveyed in a fantastic central child performance from Nayyef who gets right to the heart of a child aware of the tragedy around her, and that she could face. Facing disgruntled, unrelenting shopkeepers and risky heists, not to mention a missing chicken. Often holding on to the connection she has with her grandmother, and looking after her as much as she’s looked after.

Misfortune rears its head more and more, although the film is more emotionally gripping than bleak. Heartfelt questions met with silence have a particularly striking effect, we feel the tension and disappointment faced by Lamia throughout. We worry and fear for her. The way in which I found myself engaging with the film was quiet yet led to a powerful effect from what I was seeing. Again, much of which coming from the simple context in the events which seamlessly lead from one to the other, avoiding a chaptered feel.

Even in the closing stages the overriding feeling of The President’s Cake is one of emotional tension. Wonderfully created by the cast, particularly the lead, and writer-director Hasan Hadi who quietly and empathetically looks at the poverty and unease struck into struggling 90s Iraq. All with the overhanging threat of death and loss, which takes on different meanings in the separations of the film, while the president gets his cake.

Avoiding farce but still raising some laughs, The President’s Cake is a quietly engaging and emotionally striking film; holding worry, fear and tension throughout the simple yet impactful narrative. All brilliantly captured in the central child performance and reminders of the looming contextual threat.

Release Date – 6th February 2026, Cert – TBC, Run-time – 1 hour 30 minutes, Director – Julia Jackman

Noblewoman Cherry (Maika Monroe) is given 101 days to conceive a child, however her husband (Amir El-Masry) keeps rejecting her, with friend Manfred (Nicholas Galitzine) betting that he can seduce her in that time. But, could the stories of maid Hero (Emma Corrin) grow a strength and independence in Cherry?

100 Nights Of Hero is a family fantasy for grown-ups that kids can watch. Throughout the sets, costumes and humour consistently reminded me of The Princess Bride as Emma Corrin’s Hero rolls her eyes at the world and characters around her, much of which she largely sidesteps as she calmly and confidently continues forward with her plan, reacting in the moment seems to be all part of it.

Nicholas Galitzine’s Manfred has 100-days to seduce noblewoman Cherry (Maika Monroe) – “beautiful, obedient, good at chess and falconry.” Her husband Jerome (Amir El-Masry) has been given 101 to conceive a child with her, and so flees ‘on business’ for 100, after having turned her down every night in the months beforehand, taking Manfred’s bet that he can seduce her. However, Hero starts to piece things together and for many nights, and days, tells stories of women telling and discovering stories, against the rule of the men around them, and the strength and confidence that comes with them. Perhaps inspiring something within Cherry.

But, Manfred isn’t going to back down quietly, adamant to show how much of a man he is – the kind who gets up each morning, goes for a run, kills a deer and drags it back; abs covered in sweat and blood) all as part of a rugged routine. However, Cherry often seems to be talking and listening to Hero, undistracted by Manfred’s often arrogant attempts at seduction. While bringing in the aforementioned thoughts of The Princess Bride such moments, and indeed the stories that are told by Hero, have the feeling of a children’s fantasy storybook having been opened up. The film itself, written and directed by Julia Jackman, is based on the graphic novel of the same name by Isabel Greenberg.

This is a fantasy that’s aware of its fantasy elements and has fun with them, bringing in some self-aware humour which is captured in Corrin’s reactions to the world around their character, often acting as our lens into the upfront events, and especially those that Hero tells of in her stories. There’s plenty of humour to be found throughout, including a number of laugh-out-loud moments in running jokes, such as the masked guards in the expansive home who feel like they’ve been pulled from 2015’s Bill. There’s a silliness to certain elements, those which are viewed as particularly ridiculous in how forceful they are in putting across a persona, or simply being brought down a peg, by the titular character, but Jackman never makes the film as a whole feel silly.

Hero’s stories start to, very gradually, light something within Cherry. And their relationship starts to be looked at more as the tally of days passed sprawls more across the screen as the return of Jerome nears. It might take some time for these elements to come together and properly click among what else the film is exploring, particularly in terms of tone which you can feel the more serious moments for the characters trying their best not to rub up or clash against, but it’s not enough to diminish the entertainment factor. Much of which is brought about by the combined design, style and humour of this storybook family fantasy.

A grown-up fantasy that still works for kids, 100 Nights Of Hero has plenty of Princess Bride-esque humour to see it through while it builds up the more serious character beats in its enjoyable, frequently funny storybook world.

Release Date – 30th January 2026, Cert – 12, Run-time – 1 hour 46 minutes, Director – Richard Linklater

Jean-Luc Godard (Guillaume Marbeck) turns his hand from film criticism to filmmaking, however it seems everyone else involved in the largely improvised production of Breathless has no clue what he’s trying to do.

Nouvelle Vague is undoubtedly catering to a rather niche audience, those interested in the production of Jean-Luc Godard’s Breathless, and the birth of the French New Wave. It would be easy to hear the base of the film and brand it as pretentious, and the opening stages could easily come across that way, however as production gets underway what we’re treated to is The Disaster Artist in ’60’s France.

Godard (Guillaume Marbeck) – whose dialogue largely consists of quotes, in a film full of great ones – sets out with the belief that “the best way to criticise a film is to make one,” trading in his critic role at Cahiers du Cinéma to become director. However, with little in the way of script it seems he’s making everything up on the spot, cancelling days of shooting in the morning because ideas haven’t come together. It comes at the frustration of cast, crew and producers who often find themselves standing around with nothing to do, or no clue as to what they’re meant to do. “This is utter madness, and it’s only the beginning” observes one crewmember before the real chaos has been unearthed.

Instead of pretentiousness the screenplay by Holly Gent and Vincent Palmo (translated by Michèle Halberstadt and Laetitia Masson) focuses on lightness and manages to bring that out in the humour throughout the film. Making for entertainment whether you have or haven’t seen the film. When watching the film I knew nothing about it going in, and hadn’t seen Breathless. While for those who have seen the film there may be an amusing insight, particularly when it comes to famous shots and sequences, those unaware of the film won’t find themselves shut out. Even with all the shots and elements the film tries to cover, which eventually cause it to feel a little on the long side.

Yet, with the humorous angle that the screenwriters and director Richard Linklater create, alongside the cast, there’s an easily disarming tone to the whole thing. One that welcomes all viewers in, establishing early on a film that works well with an audience, for a likable and smoothly entertaining time. Simply watching the production unfold, and it manages to make something out of that without feeling thinly spread. Bringing you in to the filmmaking process, not overly trying to look into Godard’s mind or methods and instead placing us in the shoes of everyone around him as a much-loved slice of French New Wave is pieced together before, and in some ways, with them and the audience. And somehow, like with Breathless, Nouvelle Vague manages to pull it off.

A consistently amusing look at the improvised production of Breathless, there’s no pretentiousness about Nouvelle Vague as it creates a humorous and entertaining time for both those aware and unaware of the film. It’s a real pleasant surprise, The Disaster Artist but with knowledge and love that the film turns out a classic of its kind.